


flavours of justice

by Lackystars



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence, i guess??, karl vc: JUSTICE!!, waike is morosexual don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lackystars/pseuds/Lackystars
Summary: It doesn't make sense; how can a thief be just? The act of stealing contradicts the very meaning of the word.In which Karl meets a certain blue haired thief and learns that justice is a dish served in many different flavours.





	flavours of justice

“Halt! What do you think you’re doing?” Karl announced, hands on his hips as he glared at an unfamiliar blue haired sylvan. The stranger had his nose in the kitchen’s pantry, unceremoniously pillaging through the stores of food. That was unacceptable! It wasn’t right for him to greedily steal all the rations that the Halidom worked so hard to procure.

The stranger turned around, a sheepish look on his face. “Well, you got me there-“ he began, but soon, a look of shock flashed across his face. “You…” he murmured. There was a hint of familiarity in his voice. He bit his lip, awkwardly glancing to the side.

Karl was positively confused. It was if this sylvan knew him somehow- which was odd, because never before had he seen this man before in his life. The young knight hummed to himself, taking in the blue haired male’s appearance. A green top that bared his midriff, brown pants, and a ragged red scarf… Nope, didn’t ring a bell.

Karl cried out haughtily. “Ha, you cower in the face of the mighty Karl? Speak up now or be purified in the flames of JUSTICE!”

The stranger didn’t respond. He blinked slowly- and then he dropped the pastries he was raiding and bolted for it. The thief was surprisingly swift; he was already gone before Karl even had the chance to react.

“Guh?! HEY! Get back here!”

* * *

To say it was awkward would be an understatement. As they headed to the village, the air between them was deathly silent, with nothing but the crunching of the leaves on the forest path.

Euden had assigned Karl a mission to clear out some bandits that were terrorising a nearby village. Great! The perfect opportunity to show off his new sword and to spread the ‘Karlsplosion’ all throughout the land. However, there was just one tiny little problem. He would be going with that blue haired thief he met the other day.

The sylvan was called Waike. A former noble who became a rogue and dreamed of rebuilding his homeland. In theory, it sounded very romantic- admirable, even- but while Euden saw the good in everyone, Karl could only see a thief. There was no way he could get along with such an evildoer.

“Uhh…” Waike began but trailed off. He became quiet, suddenly very interested in the ground.

Irritation flared within Karl. This had been going on for too long- every so often, Waike would speak up and try to say something, but then become silent again. All the while, he would cast pensive looks at the young knight.

“What?” Karl said, annoyed. “If you’ve got a problem with me, then spit it out!”

“…It’s nothing.”

Karl scoffed. “Whatever.”

Of course, it was just ‘nothing’. Seriously, what was Euden thinking? Sure, sending people out together to ‘foster bonds between our allies’ was all well and good, but talking to Waike was about as useful as talking to a rock. In fact, a rock might have been more entertaining.

The two continued to walk in silence. Finally, they arrived at the village. It was a quaint little place, but there were clear signs of destruction- broken structures littered the environment. They were soon met by a sylvan woman.

“Oh, are you two from New Alberia? Thank goodness you’re here!” she exclaimed, frantically pacing around. There was a stammer in her voice, breath hitching. “I-I just- we…”

Waike stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on the woman’s soldier. He spoke calmly. “It’s okay. We will help you. Please, calm down and tell us what is going on.”

“Thank you. Every so often, these bandits would come to our village and raid our stores for food and other supplies. Normally, we would let it slide, but the black mana that has spread throughout the land is making it hard for our crops and livelihood to thrive.” the woman explained.

Tears began running down the woman’s face. “We barely have enough as it is. But recently, when we decided to fight back, they… oh, it was terrible! They took my husband- the chief of this village- and killed him. And then they said they my children would be next!”

“Bastards!” Karl spat out. He clenched his fist in anger. How dare they ruin such a peaceful village? He would not,  _could not_ _,_  let the same fate that fell upon his own village happen to this one. “They’ll pay for this!”

Waike nodded. “Justice will be served.” he said quietly.

Karl titled his head. There was a strange conviction to Waike’s voice… it almost sounded grim, even. But maybe the mission with him wouldn’t be so bad. If there was one thing they had in common, it was that they would ensure the evildoers would be punished.

* * *

 “Alright, this is the plan. We will hide in these bushes and then ambush them when they exit their hideout. I’ll take a few of them out with my bow while you cause a distraction.” Waike whispered, examining his quiver of arrows.

It was evening now, with the duo under the cover of darkness as they headed towards the bandit’s hideout. After gathering more information and preparing adequately, the two set off to drive off the bandits that were terrorising the small village.

“Okay, got it.” Karl replied. He knelt, crouching behind a bush. He scanned the hideout in the distance- there wasn’t much activity, only brief glimmers of light.

After a while, Karl spoke up again. “Ugh, I can’t stand this.” he said. He was getting restless; justice wasn’t hiding in some bushes like a coward. Justice was all about being a hero and saving people! “Why can’t we just go and storm the place?!”

“Quiet!” Waike chided. “There’s only two of us,” he said. He pointed at the hideout. “And a lot of them. There’s no way we can take all of them on at once. Especially considering that my bow would only slow me down in close-range combat.” Waike explained.

Karl sighed. The blue haired sylvan was technically correct, but that didn’t mean the knight had to like his reasoning. “Fine, fine. If you say so.” he said. “But why do you use a bow anyway?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“…I don’t want to bloody my hands again.” Waike muttered.

“What?” Karl blurted out, but before he could question the sylvan further, a rustling sound resounded nearby. He instinctively jumped up, brandishing his sword.

“Who goes there? SHOW YOURSELF!”

The only reply was the cry of a woodland critter. Immediately, Karl felt a hand forcefully dragging him down.

“Damn it! There goes our cover.” Waike said. Voices began to stir from the direction of the hideout- the bandits had noticed Karl’s outburst.

“Ha! I was getting bored anyway,” Karl grinned. Wielding his sword, he charged right into the fray of battle. The bandits were your typical fare- tough, burly men that brandished several weapons- from cutlasses to daggers. They would be no match for the mighty Karl!

“TAKE THIS!” he cried, slamming the hilt of his blade down onto a nearby bandit’s head. The enemy crumpled and fell to the ground. With a cry, another foe leapt to avenge his fallen comrade- but he was quickly disposed of with a quick slash of Karl’s sword.

Two down!

…And a lot more to go. The remaining bandits circled Karl, closing in on him. They growled menacingly, ready to strike at any time now. The knight gulped, trying to quell the anxiety welling within him- if he let fear get the better of him, he was as good as dead.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed through the air, lodging itself square in one of the bandit's chest. More arrows followed, each one of them striking their targets perfectly. Karl used the brief moment of confusion to break through their formation and reassert his battle stance. Heat was rising inside him, as if his very soul was on fire, and it filled him with newfound strength.

"HYAHHHH!" Karl shouted, running his blade through the enemy. 

The battle continued- Karl was a flurry of devastating blows as Waike supported him with a rain of arrows. Eventually, all of the bandits were taken out, a sea of bodies on the floor. 

Karl turned to face Waike, a smile on his face. "How about it? Was I awesome, or was I awesome?!" he bragged happily.

"You were very awesome indeed," Waike affirmed. "I'm glad everything went smoothly."

He spoke too soon. In the corner of his eye, Waike noticed one of the bodies beginning to move. 

It happened too quickly. There was no time for a warning, no time for hesitation. Before he could even properly process the situation, the muscles in his body instinctively flared, springing him into action. He dived onto Karl, his heart clamoring in unprecedented anxiety, and his head filled with nothing but one thought-  _protect Karl_ _._ Nothing else mattered. 

The sole surviving bandit swung down with his axe. Immediately, searing spikes of pain sprouted from the sylvan's left shoulder and throughout his body. Black sparks dotted his vision, and the scent of metal assailed his nose. Blood. His blood. But he couldn't indulge in his thoughts now- not when Karl was still in danger. With the last of his strength, he pulled out a small dagger from his pocket, and plunged it deep into the bandit's stomach.

"I'm... sorry." Waike murmured. 

* * *

"OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR WAIKE!" Karl yelled. 

"It's not locked." a muffled voice replied.

Oh. Karl stepped inside the noble thief's room. There Waike was, sitting on his bed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and a large white bandage covered his left shoulder. A surge of guilt rushed within Karl at the sight. It was his fault that Waike was hurt. It had been a few days after their mission. Waike had received rudimentary treatment at the village, but he wouldn't expect a full recovery without the assistance of the various healers in the Halidom. 

"So, what can I do for you?" Waike asked casually.

"I want answers," Karl said, anger creeping into his voice. "Why did you save me?!"

"Story time can wait. If you're just here to disturb my peace, then go away."

Karl glared at Waike. He plopped himself next to Waike on the bed.

"...Fine, we can have it now, if you so insist." 

Waike sighed. "Of course I saved you- who wouldn't, if they saw their comrade in danger? But there's more to it than just that," he said. "How old are you?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" Karl protested. The question was completely unexpected.

"Answer me, please."

"20!"

"Right. So you would have still been a teenager when it happened. I myself was just on the cusp of adulthood. You've probably heard this from Euden, but I used to be a noble. I was sent into exile for my troubles, all because I wanted to make life better for a certain remote village. Life on the run isn't easy. You will do anything for a scrap of food- and by that, I mean  _anything._ "

Karl was silent, letting Waike speak. He wasn't sure how to feel yet.

"A few years ago, I joined a bunch of outlaws. They took me under their wing, and it was stupid, really. They didn't have any business employing a young, naive aristocrat who knew nothing about the world. But they trained me. Instead of a silver spoon, I learned how to pick up a dagger. They were like a family to me. And I guess, they taught me how the world isn't so black and white, how justice is nothing more than an excuse- to do good or evil."

"The outlaws regularly raided a nearby village for food and supplies. They would always leave me behind because I was weak. But one day, the leader of the outlaws gave me my very own dagger. And that was the last time I ever saw him. I waited endlessly for them to return, but they didn't. So I went to investigate the village, and it turns out, all of the outlaws were wiped out by a single man."

"A _hero,_ " Waike muttered bitterly. 

"The village cheered and celebrated for their torment had ended. But for me, it was nothing but hell. I wanted nothing more than to wipe away those stupid smiles on the villagers. I wanted all of them to feel the same pain and suffering that I was going through."

"I remember seeing a teenager in the crowd. He had brown hair with a red streak in it. There was fire in his eyes that would grow only stronger, ignited by the hero's brave act. I hated it."

The cogs in Karl's mind were beginning to turn. "You don't mean..." he echoed numbly.

"That's right. It was your village that I stumbled upon. The hero that saved your village; he killed the only family I had." 

Karl was lost for words. "I-I didn't know." he mumbled. 

Waike continued to tell his story. "Later that night, I broke into one of the village's houses. I was truly alone now- I would have to fend for myself, find my own food, my own shelter. But I was still a naive young man. I was caught... by your brother."

"What?!" Karl burst out. Waike met his brother once? 

"I expected him to immediately punish me- but he didn't. He asked me why I was trying to steal. I said it was because I was cold and hungry. He asked why I even bothered when the odds were stacked against me. I didn't know. Then he told me that I needed a reason to live- maybe to protect the ones I loved, he suggested. But there wasn't anyone like that for me."

"In the end, he let me get away with a small loaf of bread and some rupies. And he told me something very important- 'Justice brings joy to the good, but terror to the evil.' And that was when I decided my reason for living- to smite the wicked and bring aid to the weak." 

Karl bit his lip. Within him, a cacophony of emotions was resounding- a discordant song of confusion, anger, and sorrow.

"I suppose that's why I saved you. Because I owed it to your brother- but also because you remind me of a different path I could have taken. It's people like you with fire in your souls that can make this world a better place. Thieves like me can only belong to the darkness."

"I understand if you hate me for it. I was partly the reason why your village was so poor and that you had to encounter hardship. I was so blinded by my own selfish views of justice that I couldn't see that you were suffering too."

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?" Karl growled. He looked into Waike's eyes, observing how they were clouded with uncertainty. 

"Wh-what?" Waike spluttered out. 

"You," Karl said, biting his lip. "Don't get to decide that. You don't get to decide how I feel, or if I think your justice was wrong. Don't you dare assume these things about me." 

"Yes, it was hard, and yes I wished that we weren't basically living in poverty. But we were happy with what we had. I can't blame you for something that was out of your control."

"But don't you see?" Waike questioned. "It was my choice to become a thief. I didn't have to do any of the terrible things I have done." 

"You were following your own code of justice. And that's good enough for me."

"You're just saying that because you have the agency to do so."

"Maybe. But like you said, justice isn't so black and white. If anything, it's just an excuse for us to do the things we do." Karl said. He took a deep breath, and moved his hand to clasp around Waike's. Black gloves on brown. He could feel the tips of his ears burning red.

Karl squeezed Waike's hand tightly.

"What the hell are you doing?!" the sylvan protested. But he didn't resist or pull away- in fact, he squeezed back. 

"I think we could have ended up going down the same path as each other had things been a little bit different. You say that your mission in life is to smite the wicked and aid the weak. But who for? Yourself? Who is your justice going to help?" Karl began. 

"If you had someone you loved, someone you wanted to protect, then maybe, things would have been different back then. But that's all in the past. It's different now. You're not alone, Waike."

"Karl..."

"I know I'm an idiot who can't ever be quiet for once. But together, if you'll have me, I think we can serve up TRUE JUSTICE!!" 

Silence filled the room. Red eyes met blue, not daring to look away or to falter. 

Then it was interrupted by a bang on the wall, followed by a muffled yell. "Shut the FUCK up! I'm trying to sleep here!" 

Oops. These walls were pretty thin. Sorry, Xander. 

Waike couldn't help but to laugh. "True justice sounds quite delicious." he said with a small smile. 

Karl winked. "Oh, just you wait! You'll be tasting the rich, creamy flavour of justice soon enough, scum." He wrapped his arms around Waike's neck and pulled him close, warmth enveloping both of them.

The hero of justice wasn't sure if the noble thief was ready to learn to love. But maybe, it was okay, because they would get it through it together. 


End file.
